Motivated Forgetting
by Otte
Summary: The members of DCMC had never met such a...fierce waitress before. There were a lot of questions surronding her, but for Tamekichi all the questions seemed to point towards him. MOTHER3 spoilers.


**Motivated Forgetting**_  
From the Mother 3-consumed world of Otte's brain_

"What do you guys think of the new chick?" OJ said suddenly.

Tamekichi looked up from tuning his bass, suddenly realising how quickly Club Titiboo had emptied after last orders had been called, DCMC had been left to clean up with the waitresses, apparently. OJ was looking expectantly at his band, clearly anticipating some thorough assessments.

"The pink haired chick?" asked Batch, tossing his head vaguely in the direction of a dolled-up waitress by the counter. She was putting away a tray and untying her apron from around her waist, hanging it up with a weary sigh. Tamekichi has seen her about, but he mainly only hung around in Club Titiboo before and after a gig, so he didn't know much of her. He preferred just to keep to himself really.

The waitress yawned and pulled the bobble out of her thick hair; letting is spill down – well more like burst down, around, in all directions. Tamekichi raised an eyebrow at how quickly the previously tamed and glossy hair fell into a wild mane.

"Guess she's pretty hot," Shimmy Zmiss replied dismissively, adjusting his sunglasses awkwardly.

She grabbed a can of beer from behind the counter and chugged it from the can.

"Hot? Man, are you sure? She might be a _guy_, I mean just look at her," Batch said, tilting his head towards the woman and squinting at her. The waitress scratched her butt and burped. Shimmy fidgeted with embarrassment and offered them all a sheepish smile.

"Well yanno. Nice butt, nice rack. Kinda rough personality. You gotta love a woman who'll stick up for herself, be one of the guys," he continued and added with a hint of smugness, "I'm just modern like that."

The members of DCMC made some general noises in disbelief at him and Batch threw his empty pop can at him. Shimmy laughed and held up his arms in defence.

"She's not bad, but if that's what you want, easier to go out with a dude," Magic added with a short laugh.

"Maybe I don't _want_ to," Shimmy replied petulantly, thus earning another can thrown at him.

"What about you, Tamekichi?" OJ asked suddenly, seemingly bored of throwing things at the pianist. Tamekichi almost jumped – he'd almost forgotten he was even involved in the conversation. He fiddled with his bass some more – these types of conversations always made him uneasy. For some weird reason, he felt as though he was going to told whatever his opinions were, they were wrong. Logically, he knew it was a ridiculous viewpoint.

It was, however, one that wasn't being pushed out of his system easily. Besides that, it did feel somewhat…mean.

"Err. Dunno, she seems cool enough. What was her name again?" he said, pushing the conversation in a different direction. She was sort of odd, she'd just appeared all of a sudden and taken up a job in Club Titiboo – no back-story, no friends or family in sight, nobody knew her, nothing.

Much like himself, he realised with a jolt.

"Yoshi-Koshi, I think," OJ replied vaguely.

"Cute name," Tamekichi commented idly. He had thought that it had started with a 'K'. She must just be called Koshi most of the time or something.

"Not so cute lady," OJ said cheerfully, brimming with eagerness to tell his story and relishing every word, " She's a fierce one, nearly kicked some poor bloke's nuts off for grabbing at her arse"

The band shared a grimace at the mental image. Tamekichi couldn't help but think it was at least somewhat justified, and judging from the grin on his face, OJ agreed.

Or, quite possibly, he just thought it was hilarious.

"Idiot should've expected it," Shimmy chimed in with a dismissive shrug. Magic looked less convinced, occasionally shooting the waitress terrified glances, as though he were afraid he would somehow offend her and send her into a frenzy.

"Ah, bloody hell, she's coming over," OJ said, folding his arms across his chest.

Tamekichi squirmed guiltily as he saw Yoshi-Koshi approach, her feet bare against the dirty floor and her high-heels swinging from her hand.

He hoped she hadn't heard any of their conversation – party because he felt stupidly awful about it even occurring, and partly because she looked and sounded like a vicious creature. She walked with a sort of confident stride, and she had a sharp, fiery gleam in her eye - she didn't seem like she'd waste any time on words when she could be tearing them apart.

She stopped before them and gave them all a searching glance.

"Tandegossa, Miss Yoshi-Koshi," OJ greeted casually, smiling with a practiced charm and ease. Tamekichi couldn't help but smile slightly – it was clear why OJ had so easily settled into the role of their frontman. He oozed charisma.

Yoshi-Koshi didn't look particularly interested, and simply responded with a swift "hey" and an even swifter wave. OJ looked wounded.

"You Tamekichi?" she asked, staring intently at him and putting a hand on her hip.

"Er, yeah," Tamekichi replied slowly, entirely puzzled by what was going on. He felt oddly like a mouse before a lion. Or, since he seemed to have no chance of escape, a more appropriate metaphor would be a dandelion before a rhinoceros.

"C'mere," she said, seizing hold of his arm. Tamekichi braced himself for a searing pain across his leg, but strangely Yoshi-Koshi didn't pull him to his feet like he'd expected; she simply stood, waiting for him to move.

With an almost pleading glance at his fellow musicians, Tamekichi stood up and allowed himself to be pulled away by her.

He heard OJ mutter "What's the poor sod done?" behind him.

As Yoshi-Koshi guided him around the club, he kept opening his mouth, desperate to ask where exactly she was taking him, but every time he just felt increasingly awkward and closed it again. What if he had agreed to go somewhere with her previously, he probably should know what was going on.

It was best to stay silent at times like this, he thought to himself.

Yoshi-Koshi released her grip as they entered a small room which had to be, judging by the scattered clothes, the bed and the way she tossed her shoes away randomly into the mess, her home. She kicked the door closed behind them, rattling the door frame noisily.

"Make yourself at home. I need to find some junk before we start," she told him jovially, gesturing for him to sit. Her obeyed awkwardly, and perched on the end of a small sofa.

"You…live in the Club?" Tamekichi asked stupidly. All the other more reasonable questions, such as "What the hell?" had seemed to have gotten lost on the way from his brain to his mouth.

Smalltalk always felt so useless and awkward to him. However, Yoshi-Koshi didn't seem at all perturbed.

"Yep," she replied distractedly, rattling through drawers and bags seemingly at random, "It's a long story, man. Some other time."

"Oh, cool," Tamekichi replied blankly, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable. For one, how had he basically lived in the same building as this woman since she'd arrived and barely noticed her, and why had she seemed to notice him _so much_?

She muttered a few choice curse words to herself as she dug through yet more stuff, tossing a few items away casually. He felt himself go red as he caught sight of one particularily offending teal item and a flash of bright, expressive words on the side – "Extra absorbent, perfect for those heavy flow days".

Well, that resolved Batch's uncertainty, at the very least.

"Oh!" he said suddenly, before he could quite stop himself "Oh, I'm sorry. Is this about earlier? Because I'm so sorry about that."

Yoshi-Koshi stood up straight and turned to him, a bewildered look on her face.

Tamekichi felt himself grow more flustered as her eyes looked him up and down, as if trying to find a way to pierce through him and understand what he was talking about.

"Well, you know. Me and the guys were just talking, just…about you. And er," he babbled – his mind was shrieking at himself to shut up, but his mouth seemed eager to tell this woman everything it possibly could, "Well it was basically said you were a bit of a…wildcard, and uh…"

He trailed off hopelessly. For a few seconds, Yoshi-Koshi simply regarded him oddly, and then suddenly broke into a loud, howling peal of laughter.

Despite himself, Tamekichi relaxed slightly and a slow, nervous grin bloomed on his face.

"Wild-card," Yoshi-Koshi repeated as her laughter subsided, clearly not believing that those were the actual words used. Tamekichi only smiled and nodded quietly, feeling embarrassed but oddly comfortable in the boisterous woman's presence.

"I like that," she added, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"So you're not bothered?" he ventured. Yoshi-Koshi shook her head.

"Dude, its fine. Guys talk about girls, girls talk about guys, ghosts talk about the living," she said, with an oddly warm smile. Tamekichi opened his mouth to ask where on earth the last comment came from, but quickly decided that perhaps he was better off not knowing.

"Anyway, you've got no memory, have you?" she asked suddenly. The abrupt, brazen change of subject took Tamekichi aback and he only gawped at her idiotically.

"Yeah, I thought it was just something to appeal to the fans at first. I was just wonderin' if there was any truth to it," she continued, and then something caught her eye and she suddenly stooped down and scooped something from beneath the sofa.

She stood up with a look of triumph on her face and held out a metallic object to him.

"This mean anything to you?" she asked.

Tamekichi stared at the large object. It seemed to be, bizarrely enough, a very large staple.

Just when he was beginning to get any idea of what was going on in this encounter, she shoved a giant staple in his face.

It was a weird day.

"Go on, take it," she encouraged, grinning eagerly at him.

Oddly, he felt as though he didn't want to touch it. It seemed to bleed a strangely familiar menace to him, and his bad leg tingled. For a few seconds, he held back from touching the strange object.

Despite this, he shoved away his doubt and tried to think rationally, and coiled his trembling fingers around the metal and pulled it from her hands.

It seemed to fit snugly into his palms, and rested automatically into a completely natural position. He suddenly realised it was like holding his bass.

Yet it had none of the warmth, or the comfort. His mind was still recoiling from it, and his stomach twisted, the world wobbled around him. Something sharp and painful cut through his senses, some bitter, old words? He didn't understand; he felt himself pulling away from it uncontrollably.

Yoshi-Koshi snatched it back from him, and the surprise snapped him out of his thoughts.

She frowned at him with a mingled disappointment and concern, though his mind barely registered it.

"No, no. Nope, I don't think you're ready for this," she muttered, as if to herself.

Tamekichi was still trying to understand what the significance that weird thing had, but the more he reached, the more his mind violently retched away from it; dragging it from his outstretched fingertips and pushing him away.

Somehow he, too, felt that he wasn't ready to understand yet.

"Well, worth a go. Lets hang out some more some other time, you seem like a good guy," she said quickly, tossing the staple aside. Tamekichi found himself suddenly being guided outside, and heard the door slam shut behind him with a quick 'Bye let's talk again!'.

A smile edged its way onto his face – for a princess she was certainly…

He halted his thoughts. Princess? Where had that come from?

He shrugged it off, and returned home to his waiting band.


End file.
